


Whispers in the Dark

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:33:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Harry has chance to do anything about the feelings he has been developing for none other than Draco Malfoy, an attempt on Malfoy’s life leaves him with only five days to live.  Over five days, Harry clings to every last hope he has and discovers that when two people are meant to be, old magic will work in the most mysterious of ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispers in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Author/Artist LJ Name: writcraft  
> Prompter: tiffanykuo801  
> Prompt Number: #79  
> Title: Whispers in the Dark  
> Pairing(s): Harry/Draco  
> Summary: Before Harry has chance to do anything about the feelings he has been developing for none other than Draco Malfoy, an attempt on Malfoy’s life leaves him with only five days to live. Over five days, Harry clings to every last hope he has and discovers that when two people are meant to be, old magic will work in the most mysterious of ways.  
> Rating: R  
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Warning(s): Angst, serious injury and related fear of death  
> Epilogue compliant? Not a chance.  
> Word Count: ~5,300  
> Author's Notes: This fic starts with a dark tone and there is angst along the way,  
> The accompanying photo art was created using film stills and Gimp 2.0. Thanks so much to the hd_smoochfest mods for their patience with me while I worked to finish this fic and for running this awesome fest. Thanks to A for a speedy beta.

 

 

**THE ATTACK**

  
  
“Malfoy’s dead.”  
  
Ron is flustered and his words sound broken and unreal to Harry as he blinks at Ron and wonders what he means by that.  
  
Harry knows Malfoy isn’t dead.   
  
Malfoy wouldn’t die and leave Harry with half-realised feelings and a heart full of unexpected emotion which he needs time to understand.  
  
It would be damned inconsiderate of him, for a start.  
  
“Dead?” Harry knows what  _death_  means and he is fully aware of the finality of it, and he needs to be sure that Ron understands it too.  
  
“As good as,” Ron amends and Harry’s heartbeat quickens.  
  
Hope.   
  
That, for now, is all he needs.

 

**FIVE DAYS REMAINING**

  
  
  
It’s dark and the midnight breeze chills Harry as he walks through the streets where he has no business at all.  
  
Knockturn.  
  
He knows it isn’t the sort of place he should be by himself at night.  Even after the war, there are plenty of people who use his name like a curse and plot his downfall with gleeful purpose.  
  
Harry knows he is lucky to have survived this long.  In all of the madness after the war the necessary caution had been exercised and steps had been taken to ensure Harry wouldn’t come to any harm.  
  
He finds the spot he was looking for and his hand ghosts over the stone.  There is blood there still, which nobody has bothered to clean and a thrum of dark magic hangs in the air.  There is a stench of decay and the wind twists and shivers.  
  
He thinks he hears a whisper and he turns.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Only silence and the sound of rats scratching against the floor down a nearby alley.  Lights flicker around him, casting an eerie glow around the place and he shivers.  Nobody thought to protect a former Death Eater when they were so busy protecting Harry and other high profile Order members and Ministry officials.  
  
Harry hears the rustle of paper and sees a muddied copy of that morning’s  _Prophet_.  It proclaims in bold font that Malfoy only has five days to live.  The press aren’t supposed to know that and Harry wonders how they found the details of the curse which hit Malfoy square in the chest.  He skims the article and it is all there – every detail that should be confidential.  
  
Harry feels a rush of anger, but there is no time for vendettas.  They only have one focus now.  
  
Harry looks at the picture and for once the photograph is still.   


 

  
It is just Draco and he looks angry and uneasy.  
  
Harry crumples up the paper and wonders if he ought to have known.  
  
He leaves the bloodied stone behind and the light breeze of the evening caresses his neck and cheeks, while the chill air leaves icy kisses on his lips.  
  
Harry closes his eyes and thinks about Malfoy before walking to find somewhere which isn’t dark and heavy with the wrong kind of magic.  
  


 

**FOUR DAYS REMAINING**

  
  
  
  
“Malfoy looked a bit less peaky today,” Ron says.  He pats Harry awkwardly on the shoulder and furrows his brow.  “We’ll get to the bottom of it, mate.”  
  
“There isn’t enough  _time_.” Harry growls out the words because there are only four days left and he doesn’t know what to do.  He is lost and frustrated and he just wants Draco to be well again.  
  
“We are doing what we can to get to the bottom of the curse,” Hermione looks worried and Harry hates it.  If this thing is enough to baffle Hermione then what hope do they have?  
  
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.” Ron frowns at Harry.  He loves his friends but the concern for whether or not Harry is sleeping makes him angry for reasons he can’t describe.  
  
“It’s not like we have time on our side,” Harry snaps.  
  
“Harry…is there something we don’t know?” Hermione looks at Ron and he shrugs.  
  
“No.” Harry doesn’t think it’s worth mentioning that there  _could_  have been something if only Malfoy had kept himself living for long enough.  
  
He can hear the wind rattle against the windows of the Burrow, and feels like something is calling him.  He can’t put his finger on it, but something is off.  
  
“We’ll do what we can.” Hermione looks upset and Harry feels like a right shit.  
  
“I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to snap.  I’m a bloody git, sometimes.”  
  
“Not about to argue,” Ron grins and the tension leaves them as they laugh.  They look at one another and remember the days of the war and the tent and Horcruxes which sucked the happiness from their little group.  They give each other sheepish smiles and everything is alright again between them.  
  
“It’s what friends are for,” Hermione concludes.  “If you need to be angry, you can shout at us for a bit.  We’ll get over it.”  She pats Harry’s arm and gives him a small bag.  “If you need a distraction you can help with the research.”  
  
“Wonderful.” Harry rolls his eyes at Ron and laughs.  The bag is bound to be deceptive in size and Harry suspects he has just been given a small library.  He stands and stuffs the bag into his robes.  “Right then, I better be off.  See you tomorrow.”  
  
“Night, Harry.”  
  
Ron and Hermione wave to him and with a cough, a splutter and a handful of Floo powder, Harry is back in Grimmauld Place.  
  
He busies himself making a cup of tea, boiling the cast iron kettle on the hob.  It looks like any other Muggle range, but of course the hob only comes to life with magic.  Anything else wouldn’t work.  Harry keeps meaning to move to a flat where he can have Muggle appliances because that’s how he’s most used to cooking after his years as a glorified house-elf.   
  
The tea brews and Harry takes a sip of the hot liquid, savouring the sweet taste as it leaves a hot trail down his throat.  The wind continues to howl outside and Harry hears a clatter.  
  
He moves to the sitting room to see one of the windows has flown open, the latch dangling down as the frame thuds against the wall.  Harry pulls it closed with a grunt as the wind battles against him.  
  
He sleeps poorly that night and his dreams fill with images of Malfoy.  
  
When he wakes in the early hours of the morning, he can hear rustling and the wind outside sounds like whispers in the dark room.  
  


 

**THREE DAYS REMAINING**

  
  


 

  
  
“I don’t understand what’s wrong with him.” Harry looks at the body on the bed and tries to swallow back his emotions.  Draco looks pale and too slim for his hospital gown.  
  
He thinks of the running commentary Malfoy would make about Harry’s clothes while extoling the virtues of fine tailoring.  Harry can’t bear to see Malfoy go like this – dressed in a thin nightgown with his face serene.  Harry would always have imagined Malfoy going out with a snarl and a parting shot, dressed in the finest Italian cuts.  He doesn’t imagine Malfoy not being around at all, if he can help it.  The thought makes his stomach twist unpleasantly and he moves to Malfoy’s bedside.   
  
“Alright there, Harry?”  
  
“Yeah.  Fine.” Harry lets his fingers brush over Malfoy’s hand and wonders if he can feel it.  He wants Malfoy to wake up and threaten to punch him in the nose.  “It’s like he’s not here anymore.”  
  
“I know.” Hermione taps her finger to her lip – she’s always thinking about new possibilities and can crack the strangest of spells.  Harry thinks she’s brilliant and can’t imagine having anyone else on his side at a time like this.  “I wonder if somehow, he’s not.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Harry turns and feels his heart quicken and that odd shiver runs down his spine again.  
  
“I don’t know yet.” Hermione is lost somewhere now, her mind already making lists of places to look for the answer.  She shakes herself, aware she has company and gives Harry a rueful smile.  “But I will.”  
  
“I have no doubt.” Harry grins at her and kisses her cheek. With a clap to Ron’s shoulder he turns to leave.  “I’m going back to Grimmauld Place – if there are books that need reading send some my way.”  
  
“Of course,” Hermione nods.  
  
With one last look at Draco, Harry leaves.  
 **~**  
  
As he busies himself getting ready to take his books up to his room, Harry hears something clatter upstairs and startles.  He places his armful of texts down and draws his wand, advancing upstairs.  
  
“Where the bloody hell am I?  I’m going to  _kill_  you, Potter.”  
  
Harry wonders if he’s going totally barmy, because as he moves closer to the door to Sirius’ old room he can hear a very distinctive voice coming from inside.  
  
“Malfoy?” Harry pushes open the door and peers inside the room.   
  
“Potter!  Where the fuck have you been?  One minute I was in Knockturn Alley and the next I find myself here and I can’t get out of the damn room,” Malfoy snarls.  His face is tight and pinched and he looks furious.  
  
“You’re…” Harry trails off and lowers his wand.  
  
“Trapped, you irritating git.  I’m  _trapped_.” Malfoy huffs and moves to the door as if to demonstrate.  When he brushes past Harry, his body feels warm and solid and not at all like the ghost Harry is expecting.  “Why do you think I’m here?” Draco starts pacing again.  
  
“I have no idea.” Harry presses his fingers to his forehead and tries to think.  “Last I was aware you were in St Mungo’s in some sort of coma.”  
  
“Am I  _dead_?” Draco looks horrified and holds his hand out, turning it from side to side.  “I don’t look like a ghost.”  
  
“No, you don’t.” Harry tries to clear his muddled thoughts without much success.  “I don’t know  _what_  you are.” He stands and reaches out to grip onto Draco’s hand.  It is warm and solid in Harry’s own and he drops it after a moment too long.  
  
“I don’t need you to hold my hand,” Draco snaps and tucks both hands into his pockets as if he needs to keep them out of reach of Harry.  
  
“I know.” Harry knows he is gawping but he can’t understand why Malfoy would be here of all places, and the whole situation feels strange and unreal.  
  
“Are you going to  _do_  something?” Draco looks angry and he glares at Harry as if it is all his fault, which in some ways Harry believes it is.  
  
With a nod, Harry stands and goes to call Hermione, partly because he hopes she will have some idea and partly because he needs to be convinced he isn’t going mad.  
  


 

**TWO DAYS REMAINING**

  
  
  
It’s after midnight when Hermione and Ron leave.  
  
They had stared at Malfoy and Hermione had seemed distracted throughout their visit, trying to understand why Malfoy was in Harry’s home of all places.  They had called the hospital and nothing had changed – as far as everybody else was concerned Draco Malfoy was still in his bed at St Mungo’s, waiting for someone to break whatever curse he had been hit with.  
  
“Do you think it’s related to the curse?” Ron had asked and Hermione’s brow had furrowed.  
  
“I’m not entirely sure.  It doesn’t make much sense if it is.”  
  
“Perhaps it’s something to do with this house being a Black property.” Harry had interjected and the suggestion had received a shrewd look from Hermione.   
  
“Perhaps.”  
  
The room is still again now, aside from Draco’s pacing which has started up again.  
  
“You don’t remember anything about Knockturn?” Harry sits at last, because he’s not sure his legs will hold him and the motion sets free a puff of dust which billows and curls into the air.  
  
“I just remember being in an alley in the middle of the night looking for something.  Someone called my name, I turned, and then I was hit with a spell.  Damned painful it was, too.” Draco rubs his chest at the memory and begins to pace again.  “I hope you have more information, otherwise I’m buggered.”  
  
“Some,” Harry replies.  “We know why you were in Knockturn.  You bloody idiot.”  
  
“The note.” Draco avoids Harry’s eyes and his cheeks flush a light pink.  
  
“I’m not sure why you had to go off and be a hero – you should have told someone.” Harry sounds more angry than he intends, but he had been so  _furious_  with Malfoy.   
  
“There wasn’t time.  I thought someone was trying to kill you.” Draco shrugs as if it doesn’t matter anymore, and Harry wonders if he has given up.  
  
“Someone is  _always_  trying to kill me – I don’t want you fighting my battles.”  
  
“No?” Draco rounded on Harry with a snort.  “And you can promise never to fight mine?”  
  
Harry can’t respond to that because he knows that’s not a promise he can keep.   
  
“I want you alive.  I just…want you to be alive.” Harry repeats himself and can hear himself pleading as if Draco can influence this one way or another.  
  
“I’m hardly ready to die, Potter.” Draco glares and scuffs the toe of his shoe into the carpet.  “Not when I have so many things I want to do.”  
  
The air is heavy with unspoken words and they meet one another’s eyes.  
  
“There are things I want you to do too.” Harry breaks the silence at last and it’s  _you_ and  _me_  because neither of them seem to be able to acknowledge the  _us_.  Harry wonders why they can’t say out loud what has been building between them for months.  
Draco turns away and moment ends.  He runs his fingers along the spines of the books in the room and avoids Harry’s gaze.  


 

  
  
“Why didn’t they just use  _Avada Kedavra_?” Draco speaks with his back to Harry still.  
  
“Perhaps they wanted you to suffer, or maybe they didn’t want to be caught.” Harry shrugs and watches as Draco peruses the books.  
  
“Perhaps they wanted you to suffer too?”  
  
Draco turns again, his expression measured.  
  
“If that was their intention, it worked,” Harry replies, the only way he can.  
  


 

**ONE DAY REMAINING**

  
  
  
“Have you found anything?” Draco looks up when Harry opens the door to the bedroom.  
  
“Not yet,” Harry hesitates.  He sits next to Draco on the bed and picks up one of the many books open on the sheets.  “You?”  
  
“Not a damn thing.” Draco looks defeated and glares at the books.  He twists his hands in his lap and furrows his brow.  “I suppose that’s it then.”  
  
“Don’t you  _dare_.” Harry is desperate and furious, and he grips Draco’s hand hard enough to hurt.  “You’re giving up and I won’t stand for it.”  
  
“Such a lion-hearted Gryffindor.” Draco laughs, but it is bitter and it hurts Harry’s heart to hear it.  
  
“Don’t make fun of me.” Harry rubs at his eyes and feels like he wants to cry but he doesn’t want to show Draco that he feels wretched and hopeless.  “We still have time.” Harry picks up a book and flicks through the pages until Draco stills his hand.  


 

  
  
“No, I don’t want that.”  
  
“But there’s not enough time to stop.” Harry pleads with Draco and looks at him on the bed, slim and angry and bloody  _gorgeous_  and he wants to scream and kick and fight with every breath he has for this not to happen.  
  
“Which is exactly why I don’t want to spend what little time there is reading.” Draco eyes Harry for a moment and snorts.  “Idiot.”  
  
“What do you want to do, then?” Harry holds his breath, because in some ways everything that went before has been building up to this.  
  
“I’ll give you a clue.” Draco smirks at Harry and runs his hand over the bed so the books fall to the floor with a clatter and the dust moves in the room around them.  “It’s not Wizarding Chess.”  
  
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Harry grins despite himself and rolls his eyes at Draco.  “I thought Slytherins were more subtle than this.”  
  
“I hardly have time for a courtship, Potter.” Draco glares and folds his arms as if Harry is saying no.  The very thought of it is so bloody ridiculous that without another word, Harry closes the distance between them.  
  
Draco feels warm and  _alive_  beneath Harry’s hands.  His lips are smooth and soft but his kisses are firm, hot and demanding and Harry responds with the same kind of intensity.   
  
They move back onto the sheets and Harry covers Draco’s body with his own.  He slides his hands along Draco’s sides and moans as he feels Draco arching into him.  When he speaks, his voice is husky and unfamiliar and he doesn’t recognise his own tone.  
  
“What took us so long?”  
  
Draco chokes out a laugh and Harry can feel his cheeks are damp as they kiss.  
  
“We thought we had all the time in the world.”  
  
“We still could,” Harry is desperate and he kisses Draco, hard.  
  
“Shut  _up_ , Potter.” Draco snaps out the words and rolls them over.  His hands work feverishly at Harry’s shirt and then he unbuckles Harry’s belt.  He works down Harry’s trousers and pants and moves to strip out of his own clothes before he stretches out next to Harry again.  “Shut up and fuck me.  I won’t ask again.  I won’t beg for it.”  
  
“You won’t have to.”  
  
Harry moves his hands over Draco’s body and he takes in every curve and line.  He wants to remember every inch of Draco’s skin and he wants to lick, taste and feel every part of him.  He runs his tongue along the line of Draco’s neck and he tastes the faint saltiness of perspiration.  Everything about Draco is  _alive_  and urgent.  Harry pushes all other thoughts to the back of his mind and loses himself in Draco.  
  
They grapple for one another, their bodies’ slick and their kisses fighting one another.  Harry murmurs a spell to slick his fingers and he pushes apart Draco’s legs. He works his fingers inside Draco, biting down on his neck to steady himself because he knows he is being rough, but Draco doesn’t seem to mind.   
  
When Harry pushes into Draco, he half expects there to be a burst of magic and for everything to be okay again.  Nothing happens, but nothing needs to because everything is perfect – it’s just as Harry had always thought it would be when they _finally_  got their act together and fell into bed after one argument too many.  
  


 

  
**THE NEXT DAY**

  
  
When Harry wakes, the bed is empty and cold.   
  
He rolls over to search for the warmth of a body he already knows is no longer there.  
  
He buries his face in the pillow and he can still smell the soft scent of Draco’s cologne and he wonders where Draco is, if not here, haunting Harry until a time when Harry can join him.  
  
When he reaches St Mungo’s, Harry is greeted by Hermione whose cheeks are streaked with tears and he feels his breath leave him.  He thinks he might crumple to the ground but Hermione catches him in a fierce hug and he stays on his feet while she mumbles into his neck.

  
  
  
“He’s awake.”  
  
“Awake?” Harry’s voice comes out all wrong and he feels a flash of hope and a rush of warmth.  
  
“I finally established what the curse was.  After that it was simply a case of brewing the antidote.   We worked all night on it.  I tried to Fire Call you but I couldn’t get through.  But it worked and he’s going to be okay – he really is.”  
  
Harry picks Hermione up with a whoop and spins her around.  She is laughing and crying all at once and she swats Harry until he puts her down.  He pulls her close and kisses her cheek, before giving her one last hug.  
  
“You’re bloody brilliant.”  
  
“It’s my job, Harry.”  Harry untangles himself and nods at Hermione, unable to say anything at all for a moment he is so damn grateful.  
  
“Do you know why he was at Grimmauld Place?”   
  
“Not a clue.” Hermione shrugs.  “It was nothing to do with the curse, that’s for sure.” She smiles as if she knows something she isn’t letting on and pats Harry’s hand.  “I believe that’s something you and he will have to investigate together.”  
  
“Maybe,” Harry feels the heat in his cheeks and Hermione laughs.  By now she knows him as well as Harry knows himself and he suspects she knows exactly why Harry was unavailable the previous night.  
  
He flashes her a grin before moving to the room where Draco had been since the attack.   When he goes inside, nobody else is there and when the door shuts gently behind him, Harry knows Hermione has decided not to follow him inside the room.  
  
“Potter?” Draco tilts his head and cracks open his eye and he glares at Harry.  “What are you doing here?”  
  
Harry stands at Draco’s bedside and looks in his eyes for a flicker of recognition or a spark of hope.   
  
There is nothing.  
  
They are back where they started and Harry’s heart breaks all over again.  
  
He makes small talk and leaves as quickly as he can, not more than ten minutes after he arrived.  The air smells clinical and the warmth of the small room suffocates him and he can’t stand the way Draco looks at him now.  
  
He Floos home and sits for a long time, staring into the fire and waiting for  _something_ as his ears strain for a clatter or a crash from the bedroom upstairs.  
  
Everything is still and inside the house nothing moves but the flames in the fire and the odd creak and groan as the building shifts and relaxes.  
  
Harry thinks back to the months before the attack and the time he and Draco spent dancing around one another.  They weren’t friends as such, but they were  _something_ and Harry hopes that still matters now.  
  
As he sits and contemplates the fire, Harry hears a knock at the door.  He feels a flicker of hope which he pushes to one side.   
  
When he opens the door, Malfoy is standing on the doorstep and looking up at the sky, as if he has never seen the stars before.  
  
“Potter.”   
  
“Malfoy,” Harry replies.  He opens the door and stands back to let Draco inside.  When Draco brushes past Harry he has to force himself not to reach out for him.  
  
“I have a bone to pick with you.”  
  
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Harry snorts and Draco turns with a glare.  
  
“Only like me when I’m about to die do you, Potter?  Not much good to you when I’m around for the foreseeable future, I suppose.  So sorry to inconvenience you.”  
  
Harry is dumbstruck and can feel himself gaping at Draco.  He shuts his mouth with a snap and advances towards Draco feeling his own brow furrow in response to Draco’s expression.  
  
“You remember?”  
  
“Of course I remember.” Draco huffs and continues to glare, but when Harry looks closely he can see Draco’s lips are twitching with amusement.  “It’s a bit perverted shagging a ghost don’t you think?  Makes me wonder what you and Myrtle got up to in that big bath.”  
  
“You  _arse_!” Harry shoves Draco hard in the chest and presses up against him with a growl.  “Why didn’t you tell me you remembered?”  
  
“Because I didn’t at first.  I  _had_  just come round from a magically induced coma you bloody idiot.  I could just about remember my own name and when I saw you I just felt…infuriated.”  
  
“Nothing new there, then.” Harry gives Draco some space, or attempts to, but Draco pulls him close again before Harry can move out of the way entirely.  
  
“Nothing new at all.” Draco smirks and Harry kisses him.  He tells himself he does it to stop Draco from looking so smug, and kisses him again for good measure.  
  
“Hermione figured out the curse.” Harry is sure he must look pleased as punch and Draco laughs.  The sound is light and carefree and it makes Harry feel warm.  
  
“We’re not out of the woods yet.  While the person who did this is still at large I don’t believe either of us are safe,” Draco cautions.  
  
“Perhaps we just need to keep an eye on one another,” Harry suggests and he feels himself blushing again for the second time that day.  
  
“A very  _close_  eye.” Draco smirks and kisses Harry again, as if he can’t get enough.  
  
“Hermione has no idea why you were here – in Grimmauld Place, I mean.”   
  
“Something to do with my family connections to the place, I expect.” Draco waves his hand and sounds as if he is hiding something.  Harry notices Draco flush from his neck to his cheeks and dips his head to trail his lips along the curve of Draco’s neck.  
  
“You know something.”  
  
“What makes you say that?  Damn, that’s distracting.” Draco presses Harry harder against the wall as if to demonstrate just how distracting the kisses are.  
  
“Just tell me.” Harry pulls back as much as he can, which is difficult given he is pressed against the wall.  
  
“ _Anima Vinculum_.”  Draco shrugs as if it makes sense.   
  
“Not all of us are fluent in Latin.”  
  
“Then I suggest you get a dictionary.” When Draco kisses Harry again, the only response is for Harry to kiss back.  
  


 

**ONE WEEK LATER**

  
  
  
“ _Anima Vinculum_ , you say?” Hermione consults her books, a smile tugging at her lips.  “And Draco refuses to explain it?”  
  
“Yes.” Harry shifts in his seat with annoyance.  “Irritating arse that he is.”  
  
“You didn’t think to look it up yourself?” Hermione arches her eyebrow and Harry shrugs.  
  
“I’ve been busy.”  Harry thinks it might not go down to well to mention he’s been far too busy shagging and being shagged to so much as read a beer mat, let alone do any kind of research.  
  
“I’m sure you have.” Hermione grins and mutters something under her breath which Harry can’t quite catch.  “I think this is what you’re looking for.”  
  
Hermione hands the text to Harry and watches him with a fond smile as he begins to read.  
  
 **~**  
  
“You could have mentioned.” Harry drops down his things when he gets back to Grimmauld Place.  The enticing smell of a hot meal makes his mouth water.  
  
“Mentioned what, exactly?” Draco looks innocent but Harry knows him better than that.  
  
“Slytherin.  How long have you known?”  
  
"A while,” Draco sips his wine and gestures for Harry to sit.  “Before the attack, in any event.”  
  
“How could I not know?” Harry sits and reaches for the bottle.  “It doesn’t sound like it’s a one-sided sort of thing.”  
  
“It’s not.” Draco looks pleased with himself and Harry feels Draco’s foot moving against his ankle and then a little higher.  
  
  
"Stop trying to distract me.  We need to talk about this.”  
  
“Do we?” Draco’s foot moves higher still and his toes press against Harry’s thigh.  “Is it a surprise?”  
  
“That we have some sort of magical bond?” Harry reaches down to move Draco’s foot, but ends up simply holding it in place, such is his willpower.  
  
“Yes, that we have  _some sort_  of magical bond.” Draco rolls his eyes and presses his toes against Harry again.  His face takes on the cool, steady expression which Harry recognises from the days before the attack.  Only his eyes betray a flicker of nerves.  “At least if it  _is_  a surprise I would be grateful if you could assure me it is not an unwelcome one.”  
  
“Not unwelcome.  Not unwelcome at all.”  Harry feels his face break into a broad grin and chuckles as Draco relaxes and his toes creep higher, pressing against Harry again.  
  
“How much do you know about it?” Draco tips his head to one side and Harry shrugs.  
  
“Not a lot – I read what Hermione showed me and then came straight home.”  
  
“You’re not curious?” Draco looks smug as if he knows it all and it infuriates Harry in the best possible way.  
  
“Not really,” Harry responds, casually.  “I thought I would tease the rest out of you.  Now we have plenty of time.”  
  
“I see.” Draco’s eyes darken as he holds Harry’s gaze and his voice dips into a low murmur.  “I don’t give away my secrets easily.”  
  
“Oh, I know.” Harry grins again and shifts his legs apart a little under the table.  “You probably know I’m very determined, though.”  
  
“I imagine you are – when you put your mind to something.”  Draco stands and moves to Harry, dropping to his knees.  He urges Harry to move around and slides his hands over Harry’s thighs, giving him a bright smile.  “But then again, so am I.”  
  
Harry slides his hand into Draco’s hair and bites back a groan at the position Draco takes.  
  
They have licked and sucked and fucked one another in every possible manner and on most surfaces of the old house, but this is the first time Malfoy has been on his knees.  Harry finds the whole thing almost too much to bear as he strokes his fingers down Draco’s cheek.  
  
“What are you thinking?” Draco looks at Harry once more, with a small smile.  
  
“Just about the Cannons winning the League this year.” Harry feigns a serious look and grins when Draco snarls at him.  
  
“You’re awfully bold considering where my teeth are, Potter.”  
  
“Shut up and get on with it, Malfoy.”  
  
Before Draco can comply, Harry tips his chin and leans down to capture Draco’s lips in a kiss.  
  
He remembers the night in Knockturn after the attack, and the sounds in Grimmauld Place which kept him awake at night.  He remembers the shivers and the whispers in the darkness and wonders if Draco had been there, somehow, all of that time.  
  
“If you can look like  _that_  when I’m like  _this_  then I’m doing it wrong,” Draco huffs.   
  
With a laugh, Harry shakes his head and closes his eyes and it isn’t long before he can’t think about anything else at all.  
  
 _~Fin~_

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